


Strangelove

by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Consensual Kink, F/M, Knifeplay, Praise Kink, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur
Summary: Leon and Sayaka have a very different kind of encounter involving a stabbing in the bathroom with a knife, if you know what I mean.
Relationships: Kuwata Leon/Maizono Sayaka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Strangelove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvilMuffins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/gifts).



“Get those clothes off _now_ ,” said Leon, “or I'll -- I’ll _cut_ ‘em off.”

He heard his voice waver. The tip of the knife, however, didn’t, as he held it straight at Sayaka’s breastbone.

Thank god for control over his body being one of his strong points. He was definitely shaking everywhere on the inside.

Sayaka smiled - incongruously delicately bright, like the shinin’ star she was, on a backdrop of billowing steam as the shower roared hot behind her. Up came her hands, fingertips just-spread. Leon gulped. Both his throat and his widening eyes felt dry.

She nodded. “If… I don’t have any other choice,” she said. Likewise with a level kind of brightness, like she was telling a joke with a straight face.

It made Leon nervous - sped up his heart in a way that felt just too fast to completely associate with the thrill of what was about to happen. Like he couldn’t be too sure she was laughing at him. He had joked about all this initially, but in the end, it had been her idea.

Those heartbeats, however, hit harder to go along with the speed as she did, in fact, start undressing. Just an inch in front of the knifetip, her hands undid her neckerchief, pulled it unlooped from around her neck. She pulled off the top of her uniform with a dancerly movement that swayed her skirt - next to go as she brought both hands behind her, undid the zipper, and let it fall without any need to bend.

Then she stood there, looking him dead in the eyes, hands lifting to raise and just-fan again. Maintaining that sweet little smile.

In nothing but her own moon-pale skin, and white underwear.

She normally wore pink. Leon balked a moment, as his eyes flicked up-and-down, sizing her up.

Wasn’t that he didn’t like what he was seeing.

Still, his mouth… dropped open and bent slightly with the very beginning of a question. Looked her in the face, started with a simple “ah…” as the point of the knife in the air began to lower.

“I -- are you not gonna…?”

He knew what she wanted him to do, subconsciously. And the reality of that knowledge welled up cool and bright in a rush from the back of his brain to his front, almost as if it was dread, as, in time with it, she stepped forward, the lowering of her eyelids and the just-asymmetrical curve of her smile knowing. His heart jumped - he took a step back and he seized from shoulders to hands as she started to catch him around the knife wrist, eyes snapping to its tip deer-at-the-headlights wide as if he thought she was gonna turn it on either one of them.

He was half-right to. This was already another thing he already _just_ knew.

She giggled, and his eyes flicked up to her again seeking some kinda safety.

_She’s laughing at me again._

_But she’s happy, at least. That’s something. I’ll take that over turned-off..._

She lifted the knifetip up - put her other hand on his bicep. Held that smile and pose.

“What was that you said you would do if I didn’t take my clothes off, again?” she asked. Light.

Two tiny, soundless, black-butterfly flickers of her eyelashes.

The blood grew hot under the skin of Leon’s face. His lungs tightened against his breath. He gulped, bit his lip, strained a grin that he wasn’t sure he felt in its twist between two directions - one part further downright boyishly rushing anticipation of getting to see more, and one part likewise boyishly rushing dread. _Don’t get_ _clumsy_ now.

“O -- _ohhhhhhhhhh_ ,” he said. “I’m -- I’m gonna have to show you now, huh…?”

Multiple breaks in it that, like the stammers, he didn’t hear until they were done coming out of his mouth. His heart hammered harder. Higher.

“Y -- you don’t think I mean _business_ , princess…?!”

His free hand _shot_ out to catch underneath the top of the cup of her bra. He tugged it away from her breast, and he saw her eyebrows lift. He shut his eyes hard for just a moment - I know I’m rushing I know I’m rushing I know I’m rushing - ripping off the tape - and with a few good drags of the knife against delicate cloth, her bra popped open, two broken shells framing her breasts. She took one step back.

Leon shut his eyes again. _Don’t slow down now. Don’t trip up now. You can do it._

One of his knees hit the ground before he even consciously thought to fall to a kneel, one of his hands now pushing up her thigh, wrist turning to catch and pull her panties down and loose before he came up with the sawing of the knife again. For just a split second, he looked up higher than he needed to, chancing a glance at her face.

In the shadow of the curtains of her hair and between her still-lifted hands, her eyes were low-lidded again, eyes catching shine off the pale bathroom walls. Knowing and smiling again.

She was amused.

And this time, it wasn’t at a joke.

Leon’s brow hardened - he felt a bead of sweat form above it, begin to roll and trace it.

_Good. Keep going, keep going, keep going._

Once again, he didn’t give himself a moment to look once, with another snap of cloth and another step back on her part, Sayaka’s panties had room to drop cleanly down one leg onto the floor.

Taking in a rough breath, he practically charged her. In slow motion, but he charged her. Stood up just enough to catch her by the shoulder, knife still in that hand, and push her back. She followed his momentum as if she’d anticipated this; as if this had been a standard dance she knew both sides of. The water poured hot into his face, through his hair, through the clothes he hadn’t given himself one moment to take off. Sayaka’s back hit the wall, and he swallowed again as he grabbed her breast with his free hand, pinned and pressed and ground against her.

He felt her head turn against his chest before her hands came up to the front of his pants. A few pulls at the sticky faux-leather, and his cock clear-open to the coiling hot-and-cool air. His head lifted as he braced himself, drawing in one breath, steadying himself with a gentle, round blow outward, drawing another breath in, heat layering heavier between his back and his jacket as her thigh began to slip and wrap up his side. With a press forward, he was back in a warm hold inside her that had him shuddering, a light vocal-tinged sigh breaking out of his throat.

And on her part, a hum.

A pressed one that deepened as he did, setting their rhythm with rocking - the hardest yet most wrapped-in-velvet _warm_ , most _approving_ one on his first full thrust entirely embedded in warmth with their hips touching.

His eyelashes fluttered; he shuddered another little sound out of his throat, and as he with drew and pressed back in, he swore her next sound was framed by the softest, most gentle laugh.

Her hands played with and traced his face as he simply urged himself to keep going. At some point, she guided his free hand down between them just above where she was open around him. He knew what to do at this point - rubbed firm between her lips with two fingers.

_You’re doing fine. You’re doing fine. You’re doing fine._

The break of another little approving hum on his next press-in; another.

_You’re doing fine…_

...Her hand came to cup around his cheek with a certain amount of force. She guided his face down to face hers, and he followed. Two fast-heavy blinks to clear the steam of the air and the haze of focus from his eyes.

He thought he saw her swallow once.

Her hair hung dark and shiny around her face.

Her eyes were warm. Didn’t know if it was against the water, but almost closed, this time. Restful. She walked her fingers along the line of his jaw - faintly tickling.

“Nice performance, you know,” she said.

More amusement. More warmth.

_Satisfaction._

She leaned up to kiss him once on the cheek - a bright hot light in his head - and once on the throat - dislodging the break of another ragged sound shaking its way out of his windpipe.

As the heat of that light poured through him, he finished pushing back into a full rest inside her - she sucked in a clean, just-voiced inward gasp of mild surprise through her nose, leg wrapping around him tighter. Collapsed onto her and put the weight of _keepgoingkeepgoingkeepgoing_ and desire for fullness fully-forward-driven as he rubbed harder, and harder, and harder until she finally came, too, with a musical open-throated note that polished itself off into a sweeping sigh. She caressed his hair. Gave him another one of those knowing looks before another peck on the cheek.

_Nice performance._

When they pulled apart, she took the rest of his clothes off and threw them into a wet lump in the corner outside the shower. They cleaned each other off with every one of her touches feeling like another sign of approval. Reward, spoiling.

He had difficulty sleeping afterwards when she’d invited him into bed - where he was now, arms crossed behind his head, looking down himself at the… straight-up _serenity_ of her face, where it was nestled against his chest. Trying to decipher it like the lyrics of a mysterious traditional song you sung as a kid, on learning its original purpose.

He liked purehearted women, he’d thought. He still thought that was true. 

He just wondered what it meant for her. What it meant about her.

 _I am an idol,_ she’d explained to him before, _and I’m proud to be. I’m grateful for how I’ve been able to add something positive into so many people’s lives, and especially for the friends I’ve made who’ve got me here._

_But it doesn’t mean I’m proud of everything I’ve done to get here. As… sweet and pretty as the image is, and as much as it means to me, the idol industry isn’t always a pretty place._

He knew a little of that. He blinked a little pointedly to himself in a moment of reflection; recognition. She’d said that was why she didn’t want him telling anyone about them - idols can’t be seen with boys.

_That’ll change at some point, right?_

He wondered all the more, nonetheless, what she means by that after days like today. The times she seems to know what she’s doing. Know what she wants. Invite danger.

Pff -- ...he had to score his cool-points on the fly with her. Sink-or-swim, under a patient eye.

At the very least, he couldn’t deny that there was something pure in the way that under the weight and the expansiveness of that shadow beyond the sparkling, delicate now, the approval of Sayaka felt like the approval of a _god_.


End file.
